The death and life of the Bransons
by Rayrawl
Summary: Basically after the last episode of S2. Sybil and Branson.  This was for a coursework piece English Language  But i liked it, so it got published. I'm really sorry if the arrangement looks a bit odd, for some reason  won't alter it properly for me.


_I've been writing to her for a month now. And I do get responses, because there is a small part of me that knows exactly what she would have said. And now I'm using that small part of me, of her… to do the same for others. From her, I gained the most important insight I have ever had into being human. Because of her my entire philosophy and the way I live has changed, my approach to death has altered drastically .She died happy. And now I see that, that really is all that matters. All I really need to say is that Sybil is still beautiful and that won't ever change. I have found such strength both in her life and in her death. She is a pillar of selflessness in my life, an example of an ethic I can live by. Sometimes, when I wake in the night and feel an overwhelming nothingness, I stare into the dark and I find her. I find her spirit. I find her heart. I find her soul. I find me. _

We had been in Ireland only three months when the countdown to the wedding began; Garlands were being put up, caterers where filling our halls and our kitchens, wine testing and dress fittings and RSVP's took over our lives. With only a week to go until Sybil and I were to be married, it was not surprising. It was to be a big affair, now that her family had given us their blessing after the pain of losing Lavinia and illness had reigned over Downton, with all the important and influential members of society attending. Friends of her family and friends of mine. The rich were to mingle with a lower class on an occasion we thought not too long ago would not be happening. Her father had exclaimed that it would go down in history! All I could hope for was that it would be for all the right reasons.

Sybil was never one to keep with rules and tradition, it was one of the reasons we had fallen in love, that we had even allowed ourselves to consider the prospect of a family and a future together. And the night before we were to be wed was apparently no exception. Throwing caution and uncounted years of tradition to the wind, I found her lounging across the chaise long that resided in the corner of my room, flicking through a newspaper that I knew she had already read.

'What are you doing here?' I whispered across the room, wary of the thin walls and my parent's room just along the hall. It was not like I was much surprised, just curious as to what it is she wanted.

'There is all this silly tradition about seeing each other the night before the wedding, but the way I see it, we have never followed the rules and traditions have we? Perhaps by doing things the wrong way round, we will get it right.' Excitement filled her voice, keeping it just above the whisper that I had used. She stood and took a tentative step forward, curious as to how I would take her approach, being a tradition following man myself. But I figured she was right, we had never been what they expected, not what they wanted, yet we had still made it work. Perhaps this would be another of those instances.

I crossed the space between us in three strong strides and stood close to her, one hand balanced on her warm cheek, her quick damp breath running across my wrist and sent shivers along my arm and down my spine. Slowly she raised her head upwards, we took a long moment; something we hadn't had in a long time, what with all this planning and rushing around. I lowered my head and lent a small, delicate kiss on her rose tinted lips that lasted a few precious seconds. Stolen kisses in the dark like these are all we'd been able to have since we moved here, being constantly under the watchful eyes of my mother, but they gave me a warmth that started where she touched me and spread outwards and inwards and warmed me through.

'I love you,' I whispered against her lips, leaning my forehead against hers. She grasped my free hand and raised it to her breast, above her heart.

'I should hope so, we are to be married tomorrow,' she joked. I could feel the quickening of her pulse beneath my hand, the warmth of her small palm kept me held there longer than I expected. I could feel that pulse, her life beneath my hand. My life now intertwined with hers for the rest of our existence. For a moment I could see nothing but her before my eyes and I felt nothing like I'd ever felt before. I'd found someone I could spend forever with.

I was home.

The next day, the day of our marriage, it seemed like those moments with Sybil during the dark of the night had all been a dream. That the whisper of a kiss on my lips was just a forged memory of a vivid imagination. Having been awoken early by my father; who'd shaken me into consciousness and exclaimed that today would be a royal day that required a royal breakfast! Everything had been non-stop. I hadn't the time for nerves or second thoughts, from the moment I'd finished eating I was roped into finishing off the smaller details, greeting our earliest arriving guests; and of course getting ready to greet my bride at the alter. It was just after two in the afternoon I was due to stand before those people and watch Sybil float down the aisle on her father's arm, but I was there long before, greeting the guests who arrived and were seated before me. My best friend, Jonathan, stood beside me the entire time, to ensure I didn't run away I assume. Not that there was any chance of that. The music that signified the start of the grand ceremony began as soon as the entirety of Sybil's family were seated and cousin Violet had been given a small chair cushion to make herself more comfortable. And I watched up that long line of people for the woman I was to spend the rest of my life with.

Our entire wedding day from then on passed in a blur of vows, I do's and tears, but I hardly noticed. I felt the warmth of her hand being placed in mine by Lord Grantham and was taken back to the night before, when I finally felt like I'd found the rest of myself. The only person I really saw, really heard and really wanted to be with from the moment I saw her and felt her, was her. The evening and the reception went along much the same, with a rush of people, food and flowing sweet wine I could hardly concentrate. We danced and talked, laughed and reminisced. Beautifully embarrassing speeches were given and overly expensive presents handed about and once that was over and the overnight guests retired to their rooms. My new wife and I were finally alone, and we could finally, truly be together.

During the trouble before Lord Grantham had given his blessing for the wedding, Sybil's father had declared we would not receive much money from them, but once the day came around and they saw how blissfully happy we were, they had given us enough as a present to find our own small house nearby my mother and father and begin our family. Lady Cora was desperate for grandchildren, he had explained, and we were to get on that issue right away once my career had begun! My own journalist company, small as it was, had begun to gather business within our area and even outwards towards mainland England, both Sybil and I were surprised at the success, having only been working for a few months now. It was a joint effort usually, with my people and i gathering the articles and putting the paper together, and then Sybil going out and finding people to advertise and often doing so herself at the parties and dinners she attended whilst i was away on business. Quite a team, we were, and it made me feel incredibly proud to watch my beautiful wife work so hard with me, and often on her own as a stand in nurse at the nearby hospital. She was even beautiful sitting at home in her least elegant dresses busying herself by nattering with our only servant, the cook, or tidying already impossibly clean rooms. Of course, we dreamed and talked and hoped of children some day, but for the time being we were quite content with ourselves and our lives.

It was at work that I'd gotten the call from home, I'd believed it was to be my wife informing me she would be working at the hospital and therefore wouldn't be there when I got home or that she was going to visit her parents, but instead it was our doctor. He instructed me to come home as soon as I could, for Sybil had fallen ill with some kind of sickness and temperature and he was frightful that it would be the influenza come to infect our family again. I had returned home as quickly as I could, forgetting about my work and our customers in place of worrying about Sybil. In only my darkest dreams had i ever imagined losing her, to have to come home and not see her wide smile appear once i walked through the door, not see her loose curls spread widely over her own pillow and onto mine in her sleep. I found it impossible to imagine never holding her again, not feeling her warmth, to not feel like i had what i thought of as home anymore. All thoughts which ran through my mind as i rushed towards our small house just ten minutes from the paper office, i collided with the door on my arrival, i can't quite recall why i thought it would already be open, but it was not. Quickly i fumbled with my key and the door handle until Emily, the cook, appeared and wretched it open and i fell through into the hall.

'In your room, sir, Doctor Bingham is with her, she looks a fright though i must warn you.' She called worriedly as i rushed off in the direction she had instructed me. Our house was small, but it seemed like it took a lifetime to reach the small, welcoming room my Sybil resided in. As i rushed through the door i caught a glimpse of her face, taught with worry and sweaty with a high temperature.

'Sybil..' I croaked out, her eyes opened a fraction at my voice and a ghost of her usual smile crossed her face. It made me feel strangely empty, not seeing her usual grin, like my worst dreams were already coming true. I made to cross to her side, but Doctor Bingham caught me upon the first step, seeing the worry in my face, and stood before me to keep me from rushing to her side and making hasty conclusions.

'Mr Branson, sir, just you wait a second please. Step outside and we will talk, it's nothing to serious, i promise.' He whispered to me, careful not to wake Sybil from her gentle rest. We stepped outside of the room, where Emily waited, worried. Bingham closed the door gently and turned to smile broadly at me.

'My dear boy, there is nothing to worry about, Sybil may appear to be very ill, but in fact it is quite the opposite. She is quite well, you're expecting a child, Tom.' He declared, smiling widely at me again. Emily let out a little squeal of delight and clapped her hands together.

'Oh a child, sir! Lord Grantham and Lady Cora will be so pleased!' She exclaimed as she rushed off to the kitchen for some unknown reason or another.

'A child, Bingham? Then why does she look so.. Ill?' I whispered, not quite satisfied with his explanation. Women are meant to glow and be just brimming with life when they are expecting a child, aren't they?

'Indeed, lad, a young little Branson on the way, do not worry about her temperature, that will drop once her body becomes accustomed and she begins to eat right for a expecting woman. And sickness is only to be expected, at least for a few months. Congratulations, man, go be with your wife, dear Emily here can show me out.' He collected up his equipment from the ground below him and with a smile towards me and the door that separated me, my wife and my unborn child, that contained such a contagious joy that i couldn't help but grin sheepishly back; he strolled towards where Emily waited beside the door towards our first guest bedroom. The bedroom which i guessed would now become a nursery for the baby, i thought happily to myself, before pushing open the door to our bedroom. This time with a much happier outlook on life.

I almost jogged towards the bed where Sybil lay, and collected her into my arms so quickly that i almost didn't see her beautiful grin and her excited eyes. My entire life and i had never seen someone so beautiful and worthy of the world. She deserved so much more than what i, a lowly Irish man with some good fortune, could give her. Yet, by some miracle, this amazing woman has chosen me to spend the rest of her life with me. Now she was about to bear our child for almost a year, creating another beautiful and almost unexpected connection between us. That tiny life growing inside her would be the best thing that had happened to us since we haphazardly fell into each others lives, but it would be loved, treasured and cherished and that was the best thing we could hope for. We lay there, Sybil gently curved against my body with our hands together over her still flat stomach, whispering for what seemed like hours about everything possible until we fell asleep, more content that i could imagine anyone in the world had ever been.

Sybil had a difficult pregnancy, with the sickness lasting right through and her blood pressure erratic, but by gosh she put up with it like a warrior! Lady Cora was ecstatic and the entire family came to visit not long after we announced it to our families and colleagues, who offered their congratulations to no end. Sybil mostly refused to rest, still helping with the business where she could, cleaning, greeting guests and attending dinners and parties, but never alone now. It was the, no surprise that towards the end of Sybil's pregnancy she began to suffer from the worst pains in her back and headaches that would keep her bedridden for days. It was just a month before Sybil was due to give birth when we went back to England to stay in Downton with her family so that she could be more comfortable, and even though she was in pain i couldn't even begin to imagine, she smiled and laughed and seemed content and happy throughout the entire ordeal. Her strength and commitment to the child inside of her still astounds me to this day, i knew even then that she would give her life to protect our little creation, as i would to protect them both. We just never thought that the day would actually come when such a sacrifice might be given.

Sybil and myself had only been in Downton a little over a week, when during the night Sybil cried out in pain and her waters broke. I woke with a start when her shrill cry rang out through the air, and leapt out of bed to call for Lady Cora and her sisters. Sybil lay panting, pale and slick with sweat, on the damp bed, she grabbed at her nightgown surrounding her stomach as the pain intensified and her mind tried to process what to do. Quickly i ran to her side and pulled her slowly and gently against my body, rubbing softly at the base of her back like Cora had showed me when Sybil had pains previously. The girls, along with a few of the servants ran into the room with gasps of shock and worry as they took in the scene before them. I let Sybils tense body move into the arms of her sisters and her mother and then ran to gather the towels and other items the sisters were shouting for. Lord Grantham was on the phone to the Doctor, worry creasing his face and hidden terror in his eyes as they met mine. This kind of thing wasn't usual, that much i knew. Another scream of pain and terror ripped through the house and Lord Grantham and i gave a quick glance at each other before he shouted at the doctor to hurry and rushed back with me towards that horrible sound. We were greeted at the door with a rush of women coming too and from Sybil's place on the bed, i passed the towels to the woman who snapped at me for them and went to advance into the room, Lord Grantham grabbed me arm just before i stepped any nearer.

'My dear boy, you don't want to go in there and get in their way, we shall stay here for now until you can be with her.' He advised me. I heeded his advice, but turned again and looked into the room between the bodies of the women trying to help and the doctor rushing into the room. Sybil lay, her face turned towards me, terror and tears filled her eyes, pain made her face crunch into a heart wrenching grimace and sweat line the soft line of her brow and the sunken cheeks. I tried to control the horror that crossed my face and gave what i hoped was a reassuring look, slowly i pulled my eyes away from her and glanced around the room she inhabited. Lady Cora and Mary stood helpless against the side of the room, clustered together with other women who had no way of helping. The doctor moved quickly towards the bed my wife writhed upon, my eyes followed him and i saw Edith lift the blanket off Sybil. The sight drew a horrified cry from my dry mouth, bright red blood soaked into the already damp bed, mixing with sweat. It was the most horrible, terrifying thing i had even seen and it arose the feelings i felt long ago about losing Sybil, but as soon as i had seen all the painful sights, the door was shut against us and all we were left with were shouts and cries of pain.

What seemed like a lifetime later, the cried and shouts stopped, as did my pacing out side the door and Lord Grantham's foot tapping against the small marble table that lay in front of the chair he had perched on. Slight whispers emerged from the room, but i could make nothing out that was definitive or helpful. Suddenly, a startled, new scream emerged from the room and a tired, muffled sound of relief and joy echoed out of the room. The new scream was unmistakable, the high pitched cry of a newborn child which suddenly quieted with that i hoped was peace at the familiar voices of family and servants that had surrounded its parents for the past week. I was called into the room by a familiar female voice, Mary, and i quickly advanced towards the door, taking a big breath as i turned the handle and took a small tentative step inside. Servants lined the walls around the room; Mary, Edith and Lady Cora stood beside the bed along with the doctor, looking lovingly down towards Sybil, who lay exhausted and sweat covered on the bed with a giant smile on her face and a tiny, wriggling bundle in her arms. Any sight i had ever deemed beautiful was nothing next to the way my wife and my newborn daughter looked laid there. The blood and sweat played no part in my vision of that moment, the most beautiful and amazing moment of my life. I took another step towards them, the others moved as if to leave the room to us, when suddenly Sybil's smile dropped, her fingers loosened around baby Isabella and her breath began to wheeze itself in and out of her chest.

'Help.' she whispered between painful gasps of breath, as Isabella was taken from her weakened arms and everyone moved to give the doctor space to work. I rushed to her side, hoping there was a way i could help her. Her small hand reached out towards me and i snatched it up lightly, dropping onto the bed beside her and holding it to my chest the same way she had the night before we married. Her eyes began to glaze over and her breath came out in tight, wheezy little gasps as the doctor worked at stopping the flow of blood coming from some unknown place, tears streamed down the faces of the people who lined the room around us, but none of that mattered as i watched my wife fade before my eyes. Her ghostly smile lit her face again for just a second as she heard the small screams of her child taken from her arms and she looked at me once more. A begging look, saying a thousand 'i love you's' and more than i could ever imagine and she took one last, deep shuddering breath and fell back against the soaked pillows below her head. And that once beautiful moment turned into something so horrific that i can not find words to describe it.

'No, Sybil, come back! Come back! Come back, we need you. Come back!' I called over and over, laying soft kisses against her slightly ajar mouth, trying to blow air into her body, life into her body at the same time. I screamed at her, cried over her, pressed my hands against her chest and willed her heart to beat again, for her breath to wheeze to a start again until i lost all energy, gone with the loss of my beautiful wife, and my body collapsed down beside her still, cooling body. I pulled her limp, lifeless form towards me and held her in my arms. I looked up at Lord Grantham and the doctor, who's name had been absent from my mind this entire time, and i tried to put the same intensity behind my eyes towards them as Sybil had at me in her final moment. I begged them with my eyes to help her, to save her, because i knew that if i opened my mouth again to ask them, beg them with words, all that would escaped would be sobs of loss and the pain of the death of love. So i begged with my eyes to no avail, and laid with the body of my beautiful, young, brave, and caring wife until i was pulled away and deposited in a bathroom with a glass of brandy. Some woman washed me of the final remnants of my wife's body that covered me, i don't remember who or what was said. A man came and brought food, but i could not bring myself to eat, nor drink anything given to me. There were no words to describe the way i felt, like i had lost everything, my home, my life, my soul, my everyday and my last day. They had all been lost with her and no words could explain that, so i did not speak to anyone nearby. That was until, i remembered the other part of that brief, final beautiful moment.

I remember i had shot up like a cannon, with what at the time seemed like a scream, but was in fact just a whisper.

'The baby?' I asked of whoever was near to me in a room i couldn't remember being placed in. The woman who was sat with me stood and left the room, but returned just as quickly with Lady Cora, Lord Grantham and Edith. Lady Cora carried a still bundle wrapped in a soft blanket that she cradled to her breast. I took a testing step forward, to see if i had the strength to carry my towards them, and strangely they seemed stronger than ever. It took just moments to cross the room towards the small gathering of family and i stood before Cora, who looked up at me with tears of loss and pain mixed with tears of bitter happiness and pride filling her eyes. She stretched her arms out towards me and without thinking i made a cradle from my arms for her to place this tiny, warm lump into. There was hardly any weight added, this little human was the smallest thing i might have ever seen. Suddenly she opened her eyes, slowly, her rosy lips popped into a little o as she looked up at me, a tiny wail escaped her and the women moved subconsciously towards me to comfort her, but i whispered sweet innocent things and the cry soon stopped. Just a moment of holding the second most beautiful thing i had even seen in my life and i was flooded with love again, this tiny human made my life worth living in the place of losing what i had thought was everything. For the second time in my life, i had found home. There wasn't a chance in heaven i would let this one go.

It has been 10 months since Sybil died giving birth to our daughter, Isabella, and each day is a struggle not to lose myself to the pain of her death. Then i remember that our daughter needs me and i force myself to remember that Sybil gave me one last thing before she left me, something that is more precious that anything in this world. We have left Ireland, leaving someone else managing the business, and moved to England and into Downton so that the entire family would be around to help raise Isabella. The entire family is still coming to terms with the loss of Sybil, and we are all coping in our own ways. For me it is writing letters to her and keeping them in a box for Isabella to read once she grows old enough. I've been writing to her for a month now. And I do get responses, because there is a small part of me that knows exactly what she would have said. And now I'm using that small part of me, of her… to do the same for others. From her, I gained the most important insight I have ever had into being human. Because of her my entire philosophy and the way I live has changed, my approach to death has altered drastically. She died happy. And now I see that, that really is all that matters. All I really need to say is that Sybil is still beautiful and that won't ever change. I have found such strength both in her life and in her death. She is a pillar of selflessness in my life, an example of an ethic I can live by. Sometimes, when I wake in the night and feel an overwhelming nothingness, I stare into the dark and I find her. I find her spirit. I find her heart. I find her soul. I find me.


End file.
